


willful

by tentaclemonster



Category: DCU, Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Boypussy, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Orgasm self-denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28512399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentaclemonster/pseuds/tentaclemonster
Summary: Robin has boundaries. Slade is willing to respect them – to a point.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Kudos: 195





	willful

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I gave Robin a pussy only to have absolutely nothing put in it. That’s some people’s kink. We exist.

Robin should have realized something was wrong the second he woke up. 

Hindsight was everything, of course. Arguably Robin was only in the position he was with Slade in the first place because hindsight utterly failed to help him stay ahead of Slade’s plans, so it wasn’t like Robin’s track record was exactly great on this or anything. 

But still – 

He should’ve known. 

When he woke up on the small bed in the small room he had in Slade’s compound that Robin refused to think of as his bed or his room no matter how many months it had been, he should’ve realized what was happening. He should have known what his full body flush and the dull throbbing ache in his lower back signified. He should have remembered immediately that he was due for his biannual heat suppressant shot a month ago and that he’d not only missed it, but completely forgotten about it. He should’ve been able to put two and two together and come up with the fact that he was going to be completely screwed very soon and then he should’ve cringed at the unfortunate wording of his own thoughts before sliding into panic over what the hell he was going to do.

Robin should’ve, but he didn’t. 

In his defense, he’d had a lot on his mind lately. Being essentially held prisoner by a criminal trying to turn you into his apprentice in villainy while holding the lives of your friends over you as leverage could do that to a person.

So, instead of realizing and freaking out, what Robin did was groan. 

He blamed the aches on Slade hitting too hard when they were sparring the day before, hoped the flush wasn’t a sign he was coming down with the flu, and then he dragged himself out of bed even though he would really rather not because if Slade hit hard by default when Robin hadn’t done anything to displease him then he hit even harder when Robin disobeyed his rules. 

‘Show up on time’ was one he was particularly strict about. Robin had earned plenty of bruises over the last few months to prove it, all back when he still thought purposefully disobeying Slade was proving some kind of point to anyone but himself.

The cold shower he made himself stand under until he was shivering helped enough that by the time he dragged himself to the training room – early, for the record, if only by barely a minute – he felt marginally less like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

The effect only kept until the sparring started and Robin lasted all of a minute before Slade knocked him onto his back with force, straddled him with his full weight heavy over Robin’s body, and pressed his wooden staff to Robin’s throat hard enough to make him choke.

Robin reconsidered the merits of the whole crawling into a hole thing then, as well as getting out of bed and every other choice he had made before it that had led him to being under Slade’s thumb and just under Slade, period.

“You’re not even trying,” Slade criticized, flat and unimpressed.

Robin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Slade liked that about as much as he liked it when Robin was late.

“Why don’t you try getting off me?” Robin gritted out instead. 

He got his hand out from where it was trapped between their bodies and used it to push the staff at his throat away so he could actually breathe again.

Somewhat to Robin’s surprise, Slade let the staff go without a fight. 

Unfortunately, Slade didn’t go with it.

He stayed on top of Robin, staring down at him with a piercing expression on his face that Robin wasn’t sure he liked. He liked it even less when suddenly Slade bent his face down to the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, then followed the inhale up with the press of something hot and wet against Robin’s pulse point that Robin realized a beat too late was Slade’s tongue.

Robin was startled enough by the move that he just – froze. And seconds later when his brain came back online and he mentally cursed himself for freezing while trying to figure out how to get Slade off of him, Slade was already pulling back. 

The expression on Slade’s face had shifted into something different, going from critical and curious to something that made Robin want to freeze again despite himself.

“What’s wrong with you?” Robin demanded. His voice was higher than he liked hearing, his pulse skipping like his heart was stuttering in his chest. “Did you just – did you lick me?”

“You should have told me you’ll be having your heat soon,” Slade said by way of answer, seemingly apropos of nothing until Robin actually processed the words and mentally counted back faster than he’d ever counted anything in his life. 

He remembered the missed shot, thought about his flush and aches with a newfound sense of creeping dread, and realized with a sinking in his gut that Slade was right. 

Then he remembered that Slade was an alpha.

An alpha who was still on top of him. 

“As my apprentice,” Slade went on like he was either unaware of Robin’s internal freak out or just apathetic to it, “your well being is my responsibility, Robin. There’s no reason for you to suffer through your heat alone.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out what Slade was hinting at. Maybe Robin was a little slow on the uptake that morning – hell, maybe daily exposure to Slade and no one but Slade had irreparably damaged his ability to think altogether – but he was still quick enough to understand what Slade was saying.

The fact that Slade was on him and had his front pressed flush against Robin’s didn’t make it any harder to figure out, either. Robin could be concussed, drugged with Poison Ivy’s latest botanical cocktail and pumped with his weight in fear toxin and the hard bulge pushing against his belly would still be incredibly obvious and impossible to ignore. 

It wasn’t like he’d never felt it before – their sparring sessions ended with Slade throwing him down more often than Robin managed to get in a hit to Slade that actually hurt anything but his own knuckles – but he’d always just ignored it. It was normal, he knew, just something that bodies did. It had happened often enough when Batman was sparring with him, too, that he’d long since stopped feeling embarrassed about it. 

It was just, there was never any intent attached to it before. Slade had never said anything and he had certainly never done anything that would make Robin think there was anything more to it than his body reacting to adrenaline. He’d never done anything to make Robin think that Slade looked at him as anything other than an unwilling apprentice or, on bad days, a thorn in his side.

Well, not until now, at least.

Robin’s face warmed with a heat that he could feel even at the back of his neck. His skin prickled with it unpleasantly as he thought about what Slade was suggesting. 

As he pictured it.

“I don’t think so,” Robin replied in a strangled voice.

Rather than being angry like Robin thought he might be, instead Slade – smiled at him. 

It was a good smile, Robin noted ruefully. He was pretty sure Slade had never smiled at him before. Smirked, yes, but not...this. 

Robin really wished he’d never seen it. He didn’t need to know how much better smiling made Slade look. A little less mean if no less intimidating. Softer around the edges, maybe, if Robin didn’t already know Slade and understood that there was nothing but sharp corners to him.

“We’ll see,” Slade said and then finally, thankfully, he got up. 

Once he was standing he reached a hand down that Robin hesitated over for a second, but then took. 

His smaller hand was dwarfed by Slade’s much larger one and warm in its grasp. When Slade pulled him to his feet, it was effortless. An easy show of strength that Robin could feel in his arm, then feel in his whole body when Slade used the grip to pull him further into his space. His other hand came up to cup Robin’s cheek, all of it happening before Robin could even think to wrench his way free and step away from him. 

The hand on his cheek ran up his face and through his hair and pulled. It was just a little tug but it was enough to have Robin’s head tip back, throat bared, something low in his belly sparking then warming until it burned.

He should really step back, Robin thought. He should get away from Slade now, but the thought didn’t feel as pressing as Robin knew it should’ve. It wasn’t as strong as the smell of Slade’s aftershave and sweat mingling together under Robin’s nose or as warm as the impression of Slade’s palm that still lingered against his face like a brand or as dizzying as the heat coming off of Slade’s body and leaking into his own. It wasn’t as vivid as how Robin’s scalp still tingled where Slade had pulled his hair or how Robin’s neck ached in the most minute way at having to look up at Slade where he towered over him.

“Consider your training postponed until your heat is over. You won’t learn anything while you’re like this,” Slade said before letting Robin go. 

He didn’t step back, however. 

Robin watched Slade, rooted in place himself. He hadn’t been touched since he came here, he realized. Not for anything but sparring or punishments. Not for anything else, not for anything gentle. If anything Slade did could even be called gentle, that was. Robin seriously doubted it.

“I mean it, Slade,” Robin finally said after a too long stretch of silence had passed. He swallowed hard. His mouth was dry, his throat aching. He was so hot all over. A wet drip slid down the back of his neck as he started to sweat. “I don’t need your help and I don’t want it, either.”

“You say that now --”

“Not just now--” 

“Don’t interrupt me,” Slade rebuked, but it wasn’t as sharp as he usually would’ve said it.

For some reason, Robin couldn’t quite find it in himself to be grateful for that.

He raised his chin a fraction and held Slade’s gaze. 

“I mean it,” Robin repeated. “I mean it now and I’ll mean it later. I can take care of my heat myself, Slade. If you actually want to help me then just – just leave me alone.”

“And like I said, Robin – we’ll see.”

Slade gave Robin a last lingering look before he stepped back and turned to put their training staffs away. 

When he said nothing else, Robin knew the conversation was over, but he still stood there waiting for something that never came. He watched Slade finish putting the things away in silence and then leave without another word. It made Robin feel strangely bereft standing in the empty room alone, a sinking low in his stomach though he knew he should have been glad for every second Slade wasn’t near him.

Robin wasn’t glad, though.

Somehow he didn’t really think their conversation was over at all.

*

It would have been too good to be true if things had just ended there and Robin could have locked himself away in his room to avoid Slade until his heat was done and over with. 

As it was, Slade may have given Robin a free pass out of training but he wasn’t content to let Robin stay out of his way entirely. This Robin learned that same evening when he didn’t join Slade for dinner at the time Slade had designated since the first day Robin had arrived. 

Robin actually thought he could get away with it, that Slade would be content to leave him alone for once, but he was proven wrong when Slade showed up five minutes after Robin should have. 

His figure was imposingly large in the small room Robin had been staying in as he told Robin in no uncertain terms that Robin could either get out of bed to join him for dinner or Slade would be happy to join Robin in bed instead.

“Your choice,” Slade mocked.

Robin jumped out of bed faster than he ever had.

Slade laughed at him, a sound accompanied by a grin with a flash of teeth. Then he turned and left the room without saying another word, apparently satisfied that Robin would follow him without bothering to check.

That interaction set the tone for the next few days. 

On the surface, things were almost normal – or, at least, as normal as the entire situation could be. Robin and Slade didn’t spar, but they still had meals together three times a day. Robin still resented being there at all, still missed the other Titans terribly and worried about how they were getting on without him, while Slade continued being at turns threatening and conciliatory as he tried to find whatever angle he could to get Robin to see things his way.

The main difference was that Slade was much more...tactile than usual. If Robin had gone months without being touched before that day in the training room, then Slade seemed determined to make up for that time all at once. It was like he could hardly be in the same room as Slade without having Slade’s hands on him or Slade’s body pressed disturbingly close to his own. 

Slade brushed against Robin when they walked by each other even though there was plenty of room for him to walk around him. He put his hand at the small of Robin’s back or against his hips to nudge him out of the way when he needed to get by. He was constantly touching Robin’s arm or his knee when he was trying to make a point, squeezing Robin when he was going for menacing and caressing when he was attempting a more friendly approach. When Robin tried to move away from him, Slade would put a hand behind Robin’s neck, just resting there at the nape and exerting the slightest amount of pressure to keep Robin still.

Robin thought that if it was just Slade touching him, he could deal with it. He’d had worse, after all. Worse from Slade who had slapped him around and beaten him and worse from other villains who had done the same. 

What Robin couldn’t deal with was how his body responded to Slade.

Robin had been in heat before, but only just the once. It had been shortly after his parents died and Bruce took him in, so soon that he was still grieving his losses and getting used to the abrupt change in his living situation. It was the worst possible time to present as an omega, but there was nothing to stop it once it started. 

Bruce had to be the one to point out the change in Robin’s scent and suggest Robin sequester himself in his room, much to Robin’s humiliation – though that was nothing compared to his embarrassment later on when Alfred had awkwardly delivered to Robin’s door a box of supplies that Robin peeked into and then didn’t touch again as he didn’t even know how to use any of the very phallic looking objects inside. 

He’d spent the days after holed up in his bedroom in a haze of terrible arousal and neediness that never got sated no matter how he tried with his hands alone. Robin was relieved when it was finally over and he was left exhausted, but at least able to think clearly again. He was even more relieved when Bruce made him an appointment with a doctor soon after to get him started on a schedule for suppressant shots. 

Robin had been faithful to that schedule and hadn’t had a heat since – not until now, at least.

That first and only experience with being in heat was miserable, but what Robin was realizing now was that it had done nothing to prepare him for what it would be like to spend his heat constantly around an alpha who knew how to manipulate the situation to his own advantage.

Every time Slade was close to him, Robin’s body thrummed in recognition of his presence. The heat of Slade’s body made him lightheaded and just the brush of him against Robin through their clothing made Robin flush and shudder like his sensitivity had been ramped up to a thousand. That was nothing compared to how it felt when Slade actually touched him, however. His hand on Robin’s knee made Robin’s cunt ache with a need that he had to squeeze his thighs together to try to alleviate. His hand on the back of Robin’s neck made Robin almost overcome with the sudden desire to have Slade use the hold to force him down and just take Robin wherever they were. 

Robin was more thankful than ever that Slade had put a pause on their sparring because he didn’t know what would happen if he had to feel Slade on top of him even once while he was like this, if he had to feel Slade’s cock pressing hard against his stomach with nothing but the thinnest layers of fabric separating it from Robin’s skin and Slade’s breath against his neck, his full weight heavy over Robin’s body holding him down.

Robin hated all of it. 

He hated how Slade touched him and how his body reacted to it against his will. He hated the way it made him feel and the things it made him think. He hated the way Slade looked at him like he knew exactly what he was doing and was getting a perverse pleasure out of making Robin squirm. 

But what Robin hated most of all was how sure Slade seemed to be that Robin would eventually change his mind. 

It was infuriating when Slade acted that way about Robin eventually agreeing to become his apprentice without being forced, but when it came to letting Slade ‘help’ him with his heat it was maddening. 

Maybe all the more so because Robin knew just how easy it would be to give in. 

*

It was four days after what happened in the training room that Robin’s heat finally came to a head.

He woke up in a bed damp with his own sweat, the smell of it warm and salty sweet all around him. His bottom half was bare from kicking off his sweatpants some time in the night, leaving only a t-shirt and blanket left to cover him. He was hot all over to the point of being feverish. His cunt ached between his legs, throbbing and empty and more wet than it had ever been in his life. Robin was aware of the emptiness more than anything and how it felt like it was a void inside of him that needed to be filled. He squeezed his thighs together to try to stave off the feeling only to shudder as a bolt of pleasure shot through him instead. 

It took all of Robin’s strength to resist the urge to touch himself. He clenched his hands in the sheets to keep from giving into the desire, but it was hard when giving in was all he wanted to do. Robin wanted to feel the wetness of his cunt against his fingers. He wanted to take his clit between them and make himself spill out a little more until the bed was soaked through with his own fluids. He wanted to push his fingers into his hole, one after another until his cunt was squeezed tight around his wrist, to put anything inside of himself that he could to try to make the emptiness go away. 

Robin wanted to, but he refused. He knew from his first heat that his own hands alone wouldn’t be enough, that only an alpha’s cock or simply time could end it. As there was no alpha around that he’d accept, he had no choice but to wait his heat out until it ended on its own.

Robin was also horribly aware that Slade would expect him for breakfast soon, but there was nothing he could or would do about it anymore than he could do anything about his heat. 

The thought of getting out of bed now seemed unfathomable for more than one reason. Stumbling onto his feet and walking the long halls of Slade’s compound to go to the kitchen was a physical task more arduous than Robin knew he could handle at the moment. Doing so just to go to Slade was just as unlikely a thought and an even more repulsive one than Robin wanted to dwell on, no matter how his body shivered and cunt ached at the pictures that thought put into his head.

Still, Robin knew Slade was unlikely to just let it go when he didn’t show up when he’d certainly never cut Robin any slack before. That was why it was hardly surprising when some time later the door opened and showed that Slade had come to him instead.

For all that Robin had expected it, however, that didn’t mean it was welcome.

“Get out,” Robin groaned from the bed, glaring at Slade through bleary eyes. 

His hand twitched at his side to pull a blanket over himself to cover the bare half of his body before he realized he’d kicked that onto the floor along with his sweats. Robin burned with embarrassment at having Slade see him so exposed, the flush of it rising in his cheeks somehow noticeable even among the heat engulfing him already.

Slade made a sound that Robin could only interpret as amused and rather than getting out like Robin demanded, Slade closed the door behind him and made his way over to the bed.

“Now, Robin,” Slade drawled as he sat down on the bed, entirely too close for Robin’s comfort, “is that any way to talk to your master?”

“You’re not my –“ 

Robin’s words were cut off with a startled moan as Slade put a hand on his bare leg. A jolt of arousal shot through Robin and he remembered a moment too late to jerk his leg away from Slade. 

Or try to, at least. 

Slade’s hand tightened on him, refusing to let Robin pull away. To Robin’s horror, his cunt throbbed with arousal at the rough grip of it. The pulsing feeling of it only got stronger as Slade’s hand inched upwards until he was digging his fingers into Robin’s slick thigh, his knuckles brushing against Robin’s cunt in such a teasing way that it took everything in Robin not to close his legs together and trap Slade’s hand between them.

“For once in your life, try not to be so willful,” Slade said, his thumb starting to move in pleasurable little circles on Robin’s wet thigh that made him shiver against the mattress. “You can end this now if you’d only let me help.” 

“No,” Robin said weakly. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest, and tried more firmly, “No, Slade.”

“Stubborn it is, then,” Slade said in a way that didn’t sound nearly as displeased as Robin would have expected. 

Slade was also making no move to get off the bed or to let go of Robin, for that matter. His thumb kept moving in those maddening circles against Robin’s thigh with no sign of stopping. There was a glint in Slade’s eye and a twist to his lips as he looked at Robin that suddenly made Robin realize that Slade had never been asking his permission for anything in the first place. That Slade was only ever humoring him by letting Robin voice his denials, that Robin’s no had never actually meant anything.

Robin shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what Slade was or the things he’d done. He’d always known Slade was a villain since he first heard the name Deathstroke.

Somehow Robin had just never thought that Slade was this kind of villain.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

“You’re not leaving,” Robin said faintly. 

It wasn’t a question, but some of Robin’s fear must have shown in his expression because Slade grinned at him and brought the hand not currently clutching Robin’s thigh up to run through Robin’s sweat slick hair. It could have been a gesture of comfort or a mockery of it.

Robin shivered at the touch despite himself. 

“Don’t look so worried, Robin,” Slade said. “I’m not a monster. I won’t fuck you until you ask.”

“That’s isn’t going to happen.” 

“It’s cute how sure you are about that now when your heat has barely gotten started. Do you think you’ll feel the same in a few hours? A few days? It would be remiss of me as your master to leave you alone like this when you might change your mind at any time. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you started begging for me and I wasn’t around to hear it?”

Offense rose in Robin’s chest. It was nearly strong enough to temper the flare of unwanted arousal he felt at imagining what he could be begging Slade for, but only just nearly.

“I’d never beg you for anything!” Robin snapped.

Slade just laughed at his denial. “Never is a long time, kid.”

Robin glared in response. He tried to force all the ire he felt into the look, but Slade was entirely unbothered. He kept looking back at Robin like Robin was a curiosity for him, an interesting specimen Slade was having fun examining or maybe a pet who was performing an amusing trick. Neither comparison made Robin particularly happy. 

Neither did the fact that all the while Slade continued to touch him. 

One hand held tight on Robin’s thigh, his thumb caressing Robin’s skin, and the other hand petting Robin’s hair, his short nails a just barely there sensation teasing at Robin’s scalp. At some point while they were arguing, Slade had moved closer to Robin on the bed without him noticing, close enough that his leg was pressed against Robin’s own and Robin could feel Slade’s breath against his face. 

Despite himself, Robin’s eyes were drawn to Slade’s mouth. He wondered in a distant sort of way what Slade’s beard would feel like against his skin, what it might feel like beneath his fingers and against his cheeks and lips if Slade were to lean down and kiss him.

Robin shivered at the unbidden images flashing through his mind even as they made his body pulse with heat. 

It took longer than it should have for him to push them away and raise his eyes up to meet Slade’s gaze again, but he regretted it immediately. The knowing, smug look on Slade’s face made a hot flush crawl up the back of Robin’s neck. He bit back a sound of embarrassment as he turned his head on the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut to avoid looking at him.

“Why can’t you just go?” Robin complained. 

“And miss watching you squirm like this?” was Slade’s amused reply.

Robin bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming in frustration. 

Alright, fine. If Slade wouldn’t leave then the least Robin could do was not give him the satisfaction of having Robin react to him. 

Robin kept his eyes closed and his face turned away from Slade’s direction, his body still and tense against the bed. He took deep breaths to try to calm himself while trying to ignore what his heat was doing to his body at the same time. He tried to ignore how it felt to have Slade still touching him, too, but somehow that was much harder. 

Every brush of Slade’s thumb against his thigh and every run of his fingers through Robin’s hair made Robin spark with feeling until he felt like he was buzzing beneath his skin. Robin was aware of Slade touching him like he was aware of his too fast heartbeat and the wetness between his legs and how exposed he still was, all of it intimate and uncomfortable. Slade’s hands burned through the rest of his feverishness, the touch of them against his skin so gentle it hurt.

It was impossible to pretend it wasn’t happening and to ignore Slade entirely, but after awhile Robin became almost used to the sensations of him anyway. He’d take a deep breath and Slade’s hand would run through his hair. He’d exhale and Slade’s hand would leave only to come back. There was a pattern to it that Robin could focus on, that almost let him become calm in the way he sometimes was when he was tired while still being too awake to fall asleep. 

And just like it was impossible to pretend he was alone in the room, it was just as impossible to stay tense under the gentle, predictable motions of Slade’s hands on his body. It probably helped that Slade wasn’t saying anything, too, the quiet helping to make it easier for Robin to tolerate his presence even if he couldn’t bring himself to welcome it.

Before he knew it, Robin found himself settling. He relaxed against the bed, his head going fuzzy like he was floating on a warm breeze of air, drifting calmly along. The symptoms of his heat were still there but they were background noise to the contentedness that had settled over him despite everything else. 

It was because of the haze that had come over Robin that he wasn’t immediately alarmed when the pattern of Slade’s hands changed – the touch on his hair going further down to caress his neck and the hand on his thigh finally moving to slide up to his hip and back again. His breath hitched at Slade’s rough palms moving against his skin and he squirmed on the bed as the new path of them made his cunt ache a little harder and the flush of his body spike a few degrees hotter. 

Somehow, none of it broke through the calm fog that surrounded him. Even when Slade’s hands drifted more, one sliding up under his shirt to touch his stomach and the other down his collarbone to pet his chest above the fabric, Robin’s body stayed lax beneath them. He was only vaguely aware of the breathy little noises that were leaving his open mouth, moans and gasps that sounded far away like they were coming from somebody else. Closing his legs together and squeezing his thighs at the heavy pressure that was building between them was just as distant an action. Everything was dreamlike and cottony around the edges. If anyone asked Robin if he were awake in that moment, he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to say yes or not. 

Robin might have actually fallen asleep for real if he hadn’t been abruptly ripped out of his calm state by the feeling of a large body moving closer to him. 

His eyes snapped open to see Slade hovering over him, kneeling on the bed. Panic stabbed through any calm Robin felt as his heart jackhammered in his chest but it was nothing compared to how it felt as he watched Slade’s hands go to his belt buckle and begin undoing it. 

Robin was frozen for only a moment before his brain finally kicked in and he tried to launch himself from the bed – 

– only to be stopped by Slade’s hand on his chest, pushing him roughly back down and then keeping the hand there to keep him pinned while the other continued working his pants open alone.

“Relax,” Slade demanded. 

A strangled, incredulous sound escaped Robin’s throat. “You promised –“

“I’m not going to fuck you, Robin,” Slade interrupted, an assertion Robin wouldn’t have trusted even if Slade didn’t immediately follow it up by taking out his cock. 

Robin’s eyes dropped down to look at it before he could stop himself. The feeling that sparked through him at the sight of it was something Robin had never felt before, something equal parts fear and arousal. Robin’s cunt throbbed as he looked at it and noticed how big it was, how hard with come already leaking from the top. He imagined what Slade’s cock would feel like inside of him, how his cunt would stretch around it or if it even could without it breaking him. 

Humiliation washed over Robin in a flush of heat even as something cold prickled down the back of his neck at his own thoughts. He didn’t know whether the anxiety the things he imagined provoked in him was more about anticipation or terror. 

What he did know soon enough was that he shouldn’t have looked. He shouldn’t have gotten distracted, because it gave Slade the opportunity to grab his legs and force them to fold until Robin’s knees were pressed to his chest. 

Robin made a startled sound and tried to jerk away, but Slade kept him pinned down. His arms tightened around Robin to the point of being painful and Robin hated how his cunt could ache for the rough treatment even as his mind was afraid of it.

“Don’t fight me, Robin,” Slade warned him, so close that Robin could feel Slade’s breath against his face. “I’ll keep my promise. I won’t fuck you until you ask. All you have to do is be good for me.”

Robin opened his mouth to say something, to tell Slade there wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening, but Slade’s palm cupped the side of his face and stopped whatever Robin was about to say from coming out. 

Slade’s thumb ran over Robin’s bottom lip, pushing down just enough that it was easy to slide his thumb inside and run it across Robin’s teeth. 

Robin’s teeth parted and his tongue darted against the tip of it without him consciously deciding to do it. He tasted something salty on Slade’s skin that he realized a moment later was his own taste, that the thumb in his mouth was the same one that had been on his thigh rubbing through the wetness that had leaked out of him.

Robin moaned without meaning to and Slade pushed his thumb deeper into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue and forcing Robin to suck around it so he could swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth.

“Good boy,” Slade said in a low voice. 

His other hand reached down. The movements were hidden by Robin’s legs, so Robin flinched in surprise when he felt something hard pressed against the backs of his thighs that he knew had to be Slade’s cock. Robin stayed tense, preparing for the moment Slade inevitably broke his promise and forced his cock inside of him, but it never came. Slade only pushed his cock against the center of Robin’s thighs then through the space between them, the hard length of it gliding along his cunt but making no move to go inside.

“Just like this, Robin,” Slade murmured as he started to thrust. “Just this until you ask for more.”

Robin made a garbled sound around Slade’s thumb still pressing down on his tongue, but even he had no idea what he meant by it. All of his previous objections seemed to fade away, his ire forgotten. He was surrounded by heat, the heat of his own body and the heat of Slade over him, all of it burning out everything else. 

The wetness that had leaked out of him made the slide of Slade’s cock between his thighs slick and easy. Robin’s cunt clenched at every thrust between them, the head of Slade’s cock sliding over his clit in a way that made him ache with need. Slade’s thrusts were slow at first, a gentle drag of his cock through the wetness between Robin’s thighs, but it wasn’t long before they got faster, harder. The hand that wasn’t pressed against Robin’s face moved to Robin’s hip and held him there, the grip tight and punishing as Slade fucked between his thighs with enough force that his balls slapped at Robin’s hole on every thrust inside. 

Robin moaned and squirmed throughout it. He kept sucking hard at Slade’s thumb because it was the only thing he could do besides lay there and be used. Every slide of Slade’s cock through him made Robin ache, his cunt clenching around nothing as his own wetness leaked out down to his ass and all over Slade and the mattress beneath him. The pressure between his legs was heavy and throbbing, the weight of Slade’s cock and the movement of it against him keeping him constantly on the edge with only the horrible emptiness inside of his cunt keeping him from falling over. 

It was frustrating and maddening, the pleasure of it teetering on a knife’s edge between too much and never enough. Robin wasn’t even aware that he’d started crying from it until Slade’s hand left the death grip it had on his hip and joined his other on Robin’s face, brushing his tears away. 

Slade’s thumb left his mouth, rubbing a streak of saliva across his cheek as he held Robin’s face between his hands. His thrusts got rougher, so hard that Robin had to clench his hands in the sheets to stop his body from ratcheting up into the wall, and Robin could feel something swelling between his thighs that he knew had to be Slade’s knot.

“Tell me you want it,” Slade demanded in a breathless voice. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

Robin threw his head back, gasping as his body rocked with the rough motions of Slade fucking his thighs. He was so empty inside, his cunt throbbing with need. The thought of Slade’s cock pulling back from between his thighs and then slamming into his hole made him want to sob from how much he wanted it. 

It was on the tip of Robin’s tongue to say yes before he blinked and saw Slade’s face hovering over him, the way Slade stared down at him hard. Expectant, the way he always expected Robin to give in in the end.

Robin swallowed hard and forced out his answer, _“No.”_

Slade held Robin’s gaze for a moment before his expression broke out into a grin and to Robin’s surprise, he began to laugh. His head dropped down to Robin’s neck, teeth clamping down on Robin’s skin hard enough to make Robin arch as his body shook with silent laughter and kept shaking even as his thrusts stuttered and he groaned, his come suddenly spurting hot between Robin’s thighs, coating them and his stomach and his already sweat soaked shirt.

Slade’s knot kept pulsing between his thighs as he came and Robin squeezed them tighter. His cunt felt emptier than it ever had and regret burned through Robin as Slade’s knot went down but he kept throbbing, the edge of the orgasm he didn’t have painful and aching, his neediness not abated at all. He squirmed beneath Slade’s heavy body, squeezing Slade’s cock between his thighs until it was soft and only then stopped when Slade’s hands went to his hips and physically forced them still. 

Robin whined high in his throat and Slade chuckled as he released Robin’s skin from his teeth.

Distantly, Robin was aware of the press of lips against the spot, the way Slade’s beard brushed against his skin as he kissed the impression his teeth had left behind.

“So stubborn,” Slade murmured in Robin’s ear before he took the lobe of it between his teeth and pulled, his tongue flicking at it once he let it go. “You know that’s only going to make it better for me when you finally give up, don’t you, Robin?”

Robin couldn’t bring himself to answer. He only shuddered as Slade’s hands ran over his overheated body, one going to his stomach to rub his come in. 

“Don’t worry, Robin,” Slade said when Robin said nothing. “It won’t be long before we can try again.”


End file.
